I kept copies of Concourse from the tail end of my Keele career – I have most if not all from 1984 and the first half of 1985.
I’m glad I have copies of these papers, as they are very helpful memory joggers for that Students’ Union heavy period of my Keele time.
I shall be peppering Ogblog with extracts from Concourse as well as my diaries as I write up this period.
Concourse Writing On The New Sabbaticals, June 1984
The following two page spread from the June 1984 issue of Concourse was a preview piece about the four sabbaticals who had just taken office for 1984/85:
Kate (formerly and latterly known as Susan) Fricker – President;
John S White – Secretary;
Pady Jalali – Social Secretary;
Me – Education & Welfare.
Re-reading that material after all these years, I think Ralph Parker gave us a warm-hearted preview and a fair amount of leeway for our “honeymoon period”.
There was an element of editorial line involved, I sense. The previous committee had been much criticised for being disorganised and self-serving. Seeking extra pay at the end of their tenure didn’t help their cause with either the media or the Keele masses. Hence there was a prevailing view that the new lot couldn’t be worse and needed some space to grapple with the issues…
…writing this in July 2024, it reminds of the mood regarding the change of government in the UK!
Further, the Concourse line was somewhat celebratory about the new committee containing so many Concourse folk past and present: both John White and Ali Dabbs were on the Editorial Board when elected and I was well-known to have been a Concourse writer for several years…as well as, unbeknown to them, undercover gossip columnist H. Ackgrass.
Concourse Writing By The New Committee, June 1984
Quentin Rubens – granting us space
Putting aside my June 1984 H Ackgrass column, which I shall publish separately, here are the three articles that Concourse Editor Quentin Rubens generously granted to his old pals in that issue. Would he have given me a full half page had he known that I was also H Ackgrass? Would he have even spoken to me?
First up, a page containing John White’s report on a campus fire incident and Ali Dabbs’s investigative reporting (which it seems had been ongoing for some months) about that perennially important student issue: bar licence extensions:
My piece was more in keeping with the notion of guest space for committee members with something to say to the students. Mine was about the grant cuts and academic staffing.
Toby Bourgein.Picture “liberated” from the 1980/81 Keele Prospectus
I am sadly motivated to write up this story having learnt, a few days ago (September 2020), that Toby Bourgein has died. Toby captained the Players cricket team in all three of the festival matches I played. I had been intending to write up this glorious 1984 match for a couple of years, since I wrote up the tale of my surprise appearance in the 1982 match..
For those not motivated to click the above link, I was a late selection for the 1982 match (for reasons that, alone, make the 1982 link worth clicking). I did not bowl and I did not bat in that historic victory, but I did, more by luck than judgement, take a stunning catch.
It won’t have looked this good, I wouldn’t have been so suitably attired, but it was a diving (in my case left-handed) catch. This picture from school five years earlier. I was better at taking pictures than at playing cricket. Still am.
Toby Borgein had a long memory and a good heart. I ran into him a week or two before the 1984 match and he told me he wanted me to play again and have a proper go this time.
We have a solid opening batsman, Ian Herd, this year. I’d like you to open the batting with him.
Ian was on Somerset CCC’s youth books – i.e. he was way above “our” scratchy festival knock-about cricket pay grade. But I didn’t know that until later.
Several of my friends came along to watch this time around, not least because I knew more than 30 minutes before the start of the match that I’d be playing. Anyway, there were worse places on earth to spend a glorious summer afternoon than the Keele Festival Week Beer Tent.
With thanks to Frank Dillon, this picture of an earlier “Players” team, probably 1981
We (The Players) fielded first. I neither distinguished myself nor embarrassed myself in the field – unlike 1982, during which my fielding had met triumph and disaster; naturally treating both of those imposters just the same.
I was mostly fielding in the long grass where I was able to nurse my pint of ale and seemingly play cricket at the same time. Who says men cannot multi-task?
The Gentlemen scored a little over 100 in their innings. A respectable but hopefully not insurmountable score for that fixture, based on previous experiences.
Then to bat. Sadly I have no pictures from the 1982, 1983 nor the 1984 event – if any are subsequently uncovered/scanned I shall add them. Here is the earliest photo of me going in to bat I can find; from 1998:
If you imagine Barnes Hall to the right of me and the tennis courts, beer tents etc. to the left, this could almost be the Keele playing fields. Almost, I said.
I still hadn’t picked up a cricket bat since school, unless you count the 1983 net and subsequent nought not out without facing a ball. But I was quite fit that summer, having played tennis regularly before (more or less during) and after my finals.
Anyway, Ian Herd could bat. We rattled along. I helped to see the shine off the new ball. I suspect that Ian made a greater contribution towards seeing off the shine by knocking the ball to all parts, but we’ll let that aspect pass.
The crowd was probably more heavily weighted towards Players’ supporters than Gentlemen’s supporters, but in any case by the second half of the match vocal chords were more lubricated.
In what seemed like next to no time, there was a cry from the crowd…
50-up
…allowing me and Ian a joyous moment of handshaking celebration in the middle.
“I think I’d better ‘hit out or get out’ to give some of the others a go this year”, I said.
“Good idea”, said t’other Ian
It didn’t take long (one ball) for me to loft one up in the air and get caught.
More tumultuous applause as I came off, with the score on 53/1.
“Fifty partnership – great stuff”, said Toby, ever the encouraging captain
I remember Bobbie Scully and Ashley Fletcher both being there. and both expressing joy in my performance and surprise that I could play. I’m pretty sure that several of my fellow Union Committee members, not least John White, Kate Fricker and Pady Jalali were around too.
Remember, folks, that everyone was quite well oiled by then and no-one was REALLY watching…
…apart from the scorer.
The scorer was Doreen Steele’s son. Doreen was the Students’ Union accountant and the NUPE shop steward for the union staff. Her son clearly aspired to similar careers.
“How many of the 53 did I score?”, I asked.
“Three”, said the lad.
“Are you sure it wasn’t four?” I asked, having counted to four in my head.
“You’re probably including a leg bye…”
“…I hit that ball onto my pad, actually…”
“…the umpire signalled leg bye. It was a leg bye…
…you scored three.”
You can’t argue with that schoolboy logic.
Nor can you argue with the fact that I had been part of a fifty partnership in a cricket match.
Nor can you argue with the fact that Toby Bourgein had pulled off a captaincy masterstroke…or at least a warm, generous gesture that meant a lot to me.
But did The Players win the match, I hear you cry? You bet your sweet pint of Marston’s Pedigree we won.
Toby Bourgein will be better remembered at Keele for many other things, not least his student activism. The one other picture I have of him, below, is from a protest we attended together in 1982. But I remember Toby especially fondly for these silly cricket matches, for which he was, O Captain! My Captain!
Toby bottom left, looking suitably senior and serious about fighting the cuts. Me towards the right, in trope-inducing donkey jacket, holding diagonal corner of the campus model
It seems that our sabbatical year technically started in early/mid June. Who knew? I suppose we did. Anyway, diary says so.
My First Sabbatical Week
Sunday, 10 June 1984 – Earlyish start – pottered – played tennis with Pud [Alan Gorman] – went to dinner with Jula and Aid at Bobbie’s in eve – earlyish night.
Monday, 11 June 1984 – Met Lord Rochester [Rt Hon The Lord Rochester, DL, then Chair of the University’s Council] in morning – first proper day [of sabbatical] – UGM in evening – heavy – Bobby came back after (party bit).
Tuesday, 12 June 1984 – Busy day – went to Leisure Games [supplier of pinball and arcade machines to the union] lunch, v nice, played tennis with Viv early eve – went union in eve with Bobbie and Jula.
Wednesday, 13 June 1984 – Loads of meetings etc today (including Senate etc.) – Went down union in evening after – Bobbie came back.
Thursday, 14 June 1984 – Hard day at work – UC [Union Committee] dragged on etc. Played tennis in early eve [that must have been Alan Gorman again as unnamed] – went union for drink in evening Bobbie and Jula.
Friday, 15 June 1984 – Busy day in the office today – went to Candles in evening with Bobbie.
Saturday, 16 June 1984- Went to Martin Dent’s farm with Bobby and Co for day – very pleasant day. Stayed at B’s after.
The visit to Martin Dent’s Farm was one of the strangest and most memorable days I spent during my five years at Keele. Bobbie studied politics as well as law. Martin Dent was her tutor for a course in international politics.
In many ways Martin Dent’s glory days were ahead of him while we were at Keele – in the 1990s he achieved fame and praise as the brains behind The Jubilee Campaign, which successfully led to the cancellation of $120 Billion of developing world debt in the year 2000 – back when $120 Billion was real money. Here is a link to an article about Jubilee 2000 on the Keele website.
“Bobbie & Co” refers to the small group of students who were in Martin’s final year tutor group that year, including the suggestion, “bring your boyfriends and girlfriends if you wish”, which is why I tagged along with Bobs.
While it was, in essence, simply a day out on a farm where we ate, drank, walked and chatted, it was hugely memorable, due to Martin’s benevolent eccentricity.
The first thing we did after gathering outside the Union for this outing was a visit to the campus store, where Martin bought a full set of crockery and metal cutlery for our picnic. I think the food had been sort-of catered and was already loaded into a coach/minibus which was waiting for us.
When we arrived at the farm, which was apparently something that Martin had inherited and which he left in the hands of managing/tenant farmers, we had to clear away the previous year’s picnic, which meant throwing away a full set of crockery and cutlery which had long-since caked on & decayed food all over it. This seemed, to me, to be a novel approach to the concept of single use cutlery and crockery which was certainly not good for the planet.
We also got the impression that Martin’s team at the farm were less than happy, to the point of being contemptuous, on the rare occasions that their boss visited his farm. I remember Martin making one or two suggestions to them, which I felt from their responses were destined to be ignored. But then, I also felt that the matters were destined to be forgotten by Martin within moments of his pronouncements.
Yet it was clear from that day out and from my subsequent chats with martin during my sabbatical year, that he was a thoroughly decent and incredibly warm-hearted man. I don’t suppose he could imagine anything other than warm-heartedness in others, which for some of his enterprises was a problem but, ultimately, when he took his big ideas about world debt forward, he made a much larger contribution to reducing inequality and poverty in this world than most politicians could dream of.
I’m sure many readers have interesting memories of Martin – feel free to share them here.
Sunday, 17 June 1984 – rose quite early – laundry etc. Played tennis in afternoon [Alan Gorman again] – cooked Bobby a vindaloo in evening – very nice.
Monday, 18 June 1984 – Busyish day at work. Went to union for drink in evening.
Tuesday 19 June 1984 – busy day in office – went to Lindsay coffee lounge do in early eve – stayed in after (tired).
Wednesday 20 June 1984 – Big and tiring day with meetings etc. Early eve – went to Mavis’s retirement do – stayed in with Bobby after.
Thursday, 21 June 1984 – Busy day with meetings etc – went to Senate and Council reception in early eve – on to Lindsay Ball after – late night.
Friday, 22 June 1984 – Meetings etc – busy day – not feeling at all well today – put in brief appearance at L54 [Barnes, my flat] pub crawl – came back – slept.
Saturday 23 June 1984 – Still not well today – went to Newcastle in afternoon etc – Went to Coach House for eve – v nice – went back to Bobbie’s.
I seem to recall Mavis’s leaving do being written up in Concourse and I’m pretty sure I have a copy somewhere – I’ll add an appendix with the article if/when I find it. I am also making a mental (and written) note here to discuss soon with John White how we might liaise over writing some of these tales from our sabbatical year, as many of the interesting stories will be shared ones from that year and I think he possibly even kept diaries still at that time.
Postscript: Actually The Evening Sentinel’s write up of Mavis’s do was better than the Concourse one – really charming:
I’d almost forgotten Bobbie’s taste for a hot curry back then. Her dad was working in Pakistan and Nigeria a lot at that time, as a civil engineer – Bobbie acquired a taste for serious spices on her visits to those places. I don’t think vindaloo appeared on my cooking menu much after that era.
Anyone remember who played Lindsay Ball that summer? As I didn’t note the name, it quite possibly wasn’t a memorable name to me.
I don’t remember much about the summer L54 pub crawl, but I did write up the winter one from six month’s earlier. The memories (or lack thereof) are probably an amalgam of the two:
I spent two of my five years at Keele in Barnes L54, as reported on these pages in several past pieces. I have happy memories of my time there, not least because my time sharing a flat at Keele was the only time in my life that I have flat-shared in that “Home Of Multiple Occupation” sense.
I was really touched when I stumbled across the following letter from the June 1984 edition of Concourse.
In truth I barely remember the four of us deciding to write that letter to Concourse. Part of the motivation was mine, to make a public goodbye to the flat. the other three, after all, were to stay on in the flat after I had departed, with Hayward Burt joining them in my place:
Hayward quite literally in my place: in 1985, Barnes L54 as THAT’S EXACTLY where I used to sit. Thanks Mark Ellicott for the picture.
The references in Concourse to Barnes L54 being a Machiavellian Students’ Union political stronghold mostly emanated from my H Ackgrass column, ably assisted by my spies, three of whom were my flatmates. So the argument is more than a little bit circular and the “gripe” was really an in joke amongst us, not least becuase my identity as H Ackgrass remained a secret for a further year.
The gossip-fest to which I refer was mostly in my third Ackgrass column, although I think there was also at least a mention in the previous column.
I have managed to re-engage with the West Country contingent (Chris Spencer and Hayward) as part of my Ogblogging process. Pete Wild seems harder to contact – if anyone out there is in touch with him, I expect he’d enjoy seeing this letter again.
Sadly, Alan “The Great Yorkshire Pudding” Gorman died several years ago, having moved to the USA quite soon after graduating. His widow, Susan and sons have been following these Barnes L54 reminiscences and I hope they find this letter as touching as I did. It reads, to me, like mostly Alan’s writing, informed/tweaked by the rest of us. It oozes his sense of humo(u)r.
Moved I was. Physically moved, at the end of August 1984, to a small tutor’s flat in K-Block Horwood. Emotionally moved, by re-finding this letter in that old copy of Concourse, during August 2024.
It was a strange yet joyful period, that short interval between completing my finals and graduating, during which time I started work as Education & Welfare Officer for the Student’s Union at Keele.
Bobbie sensibly arranged some post-finals treats and outings for us during that time, plus there were various “goodbye” parties to attend as finalists, while I also had several “hello” receptions to attend as an incoming sabbatical.
This piece covers the week 3 to 9 June 1984 the highlight of which, for me, was a whistle-stop visit to London/Wembley, with Bobbie, to see, amongst other things, Billy Joel at Wembley Arena.
Sunday, 3 June 1984 – Got up fairly early – did little all day – played tennis etc – went to union with Bobbie in eve – Asian Cultural [Society] and drink after.
Monday, 4 June 1984 – Spent most of the day in the E&W [Education & Welfare] office – sorted one or two things out etc – Constitutional Committee in eve – Bobbies for a while.
Tuesday, 5 June 1984 – Spent most of day in E&W office – went to a couple of meetings/committees etc – sorted things – played tennis – went over to Bobby’s in eve – early night.
Wednesday, 6 June 1984- Rose very early – went to London – Chinese lunch, Middle Temple [Bobbie’s chosen Inn of Court], British Museum, light dinner – Wembley for Billy Joel gig – got last train.
That Billy Joel gig was very good and very memorable. It seems he did three nights at Wembley Arena, one of which (the Friday I believe) was broadcast by the BBC in sound and vision, thus recorded for posterity.
Thursday, 7 June 1984 – Got back [from London] late – rose late – shopped – went union – laundry – elections – E&W office. B and I went union in eve (quiet) – came back here.
Friday, 8 June 1984 – spent most of day in union – Sherry with A&C (appointments and counselling). UC (union committee) over “corruption” most of the day – went over Bobbie’s in evening – union etc.
Saturday, 9 June 1984 – Went shopping in morn – Buxton Derbyshire in afternoon – lunch, tea etc – had Chinese meal in Hanley (eve) – went to party in Thorns after – Bobbie came back.
I guess that Union Committee meeting on 8 June was the first wind that I and my fellow incoming UC members had of the serious issues we were to inherit with regard to the bars. I would not now describe it as having been corruption, but that was presumably how it was pitched to us that day. More on that saga will follow in later pieces.
Buxton Derbyshire is a charming place to visit. Calm too – in contrast with the frenetic existence as a sabbatical, which I had chosen to pursue for the next 12 months.
My series of pieces about my somewhat distracted run up to finals at Keele in 1984 might have given readers the impression that I was doing very little reading and paying little heed to my papers.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
Indeed, reflecting on my two happy academic years living in Barnes L54, 1982/83 and 1983/84, I realise that there is an element of that lifestyle that has gone unmentioned in these pieces so far.
The newspapers.
From the outset, we took The Guardian as a flat through our kitty during term time. We also, if I remember correctly, took both The Sunday Times and The Observer on a Sunday.
Everyone in the flat at least dipped into the papers. The main beneficiaries of the paper habit were undoubtedly me and Alan “The Great Yorkshire Pudding” Gorman. In part, this is because we probably did more reading and dipping than anyone else, but also because we became addicted to doing The Guardian crossword.
“I’ve done most of it, Bagel Boy, see if you can finish it off”
Quite often, one or other of us would be up earlier, if we had lectures or classes to attend while the other did not. More likely Alan would get to the paper first, as he more often had early classes and I would quite often stay at Bobbie’s and return in the morning. A note, along the lines of the above picture caption, might well be waiting for me in those circumstances.
Sometimes the earliest riser couldn’t get very far and the second-dipper would make most of the progress. The second-dipper’s note might have a more competitive tone to it in those circumstances.
It was an exercise in co-opetition rather than competition, though. Our mission was to complete the crossword between the two of us. We would regularly spend time on the puzzle together to finish it off, perhaps late afternoon or over our evening meal. Quite often we would succeed in completing the puzzle. Only occasionally would we be seriously confounded and fail spectacularly. Fairly often, we would struggle with just one or two clues at the end.
We became familiar with the compilers – some easier than others. Often our nemesis was Araucaria, who was known as a difficult compiler. An example from our era is shown below;
In those days, there was no Google or ChatGPT to resort to if we were stuck. We might check the spelling of a word in the dictionary or resort to my trusty copy of Roget’s Thesaurus if desperate, but the clues that confounded us tended to be factual items.
I remember one occasion when we were both struggling to work out where Tanganyika Territory was, to try to resolve a clue. I think Alan might even have ventured to the library to get intelligence on that one and I vaguely recall that the intelligence did not help us solve the clue. That was probably one of Araucaria’s. Forty years later, I have only just learnt the significance of the compiler’s name.
Araucaria araucana (Monkey Puzzle Tree) BillyKwiki at the English-language Wikipedia, CC BY-SA 3.0
One other vain attempt to solve a sole remaining clue lives clearly in my memory. The clue was something to do with a Roman writer/historian and the answer only required four letters – blank-I-blank-Y. The answer, to spare you the agony that Alan and I went through, was LIVY. But neither of us were familiar with the works of Livy. Indeed, the only four letter word Roman writer either of us could think of was Ovid. I became convinced that Ovid might well have been known as “Vidy” to his friends, after which we explored many different permutations of “blank-I-blank-Y”. We had a good laugh over some of the possibilities we invented. We would advocate a name and then extemporize the tale of this imagined Roman’s character and works.
One or two of the ideas we explored, tongue in cheek, would not pass the political correctness test. The only Roman historian I could think of was Flavius Josephus – who knows how his detractors might have nicknamed him? Alan and I spent an inordinate amount of time and effort coming up with possible answers to this crossword clue, one of which was probably Livy, but we gave that idea no more credence than any other permutation we could invent.
For many years, indeed decades, I have had an occasional but clearly recurring nightmare. I enter an exam room knowing that I have done precisely no revision for the exam in question; indeed I know precious little about the subject upon which I am about to be examined.
The nightmare tends to arise if I have a work deadline looming. But I can tell you precisely when I first experienced the nightmare…or perhaps I should say the experience that triggered that recurring nightmare. It was the sense of helplessness and regret I felt between my Law finals and my Economics finals at Keele. I sensed that I had comprehensively neglected Economics in favour of Law revision. Not that I had been all that diligent with the Law revision – as the first three pieces in this “How Not To Revise” series attest:
Even when the reality of my poor preparation started to sink in – and plague my sleeping hours – in late May, I still somehow found plenty of time for tennis and other things:
Even the diary reports from those last few days suggest less than panic and plenty of racket-wielding:
Sunday, 27 May 1984 – Rose quite early – did quite a bit of work today during day and evening at Bobbie’s (B[obbie] cooked meal in evening).
Monday, 28th May 1984 – Did a bit more work today – especially at Bobbie’s in evening. Played tennis with Bobbie in afternoon.
Tuesday, 29 May 1984 – Worked quite hard today – shopped and played tennis [with Alan “The Great Yorkshire Pudding” Gorman on that occasion] also – worked mostly in eve – Bobbie came back.
Wednesday, 30 May 1984 – Rose quite early – did some work – MICRO in afternoon – did some work and watch football in eve – Bobbie came back.
Thursday, 31 May 1984 – two more papers today – MACRO and APPLIED – pretty tired after – did a little work in eve, went to count etc. Bobbie came back.
Friday, 1 June 1984 – Last two exams – OPTIONS and SPECIAL SUBJECT – got wet and drunk after – went to Nick Lowe etc – felt pretty bad after and Bobbie came back.
Saturday, 2 June 1984 – felt pretty bad in morning. – Rose late – went into Hanley – did some shopping and ate there etc. – went to Lara’s party in evening – stayed in Lindsay.
I had a vague recollection of playing tennis with Bobbie once and I’m glad that the diary confirms the matter. I think we both agreed that the experience should be a one-off for both of us. I don’t think Bobbie much liked bat and ball games generally. She was a whizz at karate and very keen on football, mind you.
The football on the Wednesday can only have been the European Cup final between Liverpool and Roma – don’t click here unless you are happy to see the result. Some readers might still be keeping this result under wraps, forty-plus years later, with a view to watching a recording of the match untainted by knowing the result.
I don’t know whether to be proud of myself or denounce myself as an utter fool for attending a Students’ Union election count on the Thursday evening, having sat two Economics finals papers that day, before doing two more papers the next day. Perhaps I simply felt that I needed a bit of a break from the relentless economics. I wonder whether there is a formula and/or a law of economics to help decide the relative merits of yet more revision or something completely different for a few evening hours in those circumstances? Surely Parkinson’s Law should come into play?
I cherish my copy of this book
I love the line “got wet and drunk after” following my last two exams. Duncan Baldwin – I seem to recall – was involved in that traditional soaking – I cannot remember whether he was a fellow victim, perpetrator or both. Probably, like me, just victim in the water element but a willing participant in the libations.
I’m pretty sure that Bobbie had finished her exams before I finished mine and was being a brick those last few days to help keep me reasonably close to the straight and narrow until after the exams were done.
Nick Lowe At Keele
I was wondering whether Nick Lowe was at Keele or Hanley the night my finals finished. Fortunately, there was a preview in the local rag on the day of the gig, proving that it was indeed at Keele. Interesting article about an interesting guy:
It does sound a bit scruffy, as promised by the man himself. I do remember enjoying the gig before exhaustion and alcohol excess took their toll on me. I’m pretty sure he played several of his earlier hits as well as plenty of material from his most recent release. This link to concert archive shows a set list from 10 weeks later, when this outfit was supporting Elvis Costello in the USA. I’d guess not the same set list but there would be significant overlap with the set we saw in June. After Keele, at least two stadiums in the next 10-12 weeks!
Next Up…
…waiting for the finals results, while getting up to speed for my forthcoming role as Students’ Union Education & Welfare officer…and some fun times during that hiatus period. Watch this space.
